


Five Times Tony Stark Accepted Help (and the One Time He Didn't)

by BeautifulCreature



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anxiety, Dark, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, Sleep Deprivation, Stubborn Tony, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7868515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulCreature/pseuds/BeautifulCreature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as the title says, but with more stubbornness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. I haven't had much experience writing Tony or Rhodey, so this may seem a bit out of character but I attempted my best with the knowledge of previous movies in the series. This particular 5+1 takes place around Iron Man 3.

One

The room is dimly lit, a request hastily snapped when the glaring lights nearly blinded him. His head is throbbing—an unfortunate effect from the lack of coffee consumption… or is it something else? He rarely sleeps anymore, sometimes an hour or two every few days. His girlfriend continuously reminds him that his body will crash if he doesn’t take care of himself but he insists that he will be fine. Finishing his work in the lab is more important than sleeping a reasonable amount of hours each night.

He doesn’t like sleep much. It used to be an escape from the memories that surfaced in his mind but now it’s another way for them to torture him. Forcing himself to stay awake is less painful than the alternative of vivid nightmares. He’s been told that his stubborn behavior will only make the situation worse, though he elects to ignore their words. If he’s been fine so far, why does he have to change his routine now?

Statistics show that depression can increase the risk of illness, something he’s been reminded of multiple times in the past two weeks. He believes that he’s incapable of coming down with a cold or the flu, whether depression (which he won’t admit) or not.

Another thing he won’t admit is the slight, yet persistent, ache in his throat. Or the dull tingling deep within his sinuses. The symptoms are stubborn enough to pry his attention away from the pieces of equipment he’s tinkering with, but he doesn’t give them much more thought. That is, until the sneezing begins. Each ticklish sneeze adds to his increasing annoyance with his body.

It could never be just _one._ Seconds after the first sneeze scraped his throat he was gearing up for another, then another, and another. Despite the seemingly never-ending fits (as he would ever so dramatically put it), he can’t quite get the tickle to subside. The heavy congestion that’s forming in his sinuses isn’t helping either. Maybe his schedule is finally catching up with him, but that’s another thing he won’t admit, willingly at least.

“Tony,” He removes his focus from the piece of equipment sitting before him.

The brunette sighs, “I’m working.”

“Are you?” The other man raises his eyebrows, “From here it looks like you’re staring at nothing.”

Tony rolls his eyes, “Come on, Rhodey, I’m being responsible for once.”

“Pepper asked me to watch you,”

He sniffles softly, the sound barely audible. There isn’t much relief but it will suffice for the moment. “I wasn’t aware I needed a babysitter.”

“You’ve been working yourself into the ground,” Rhodey says, knowing this comment will frustrate his friend. “Take a break.”

“I’m fine!” he insists, raising his voice enough to strengthen the ache in his throat. Tony suppresses the intense urge to cough, perhaps by some miracle.

He doesn’t look fine. His clothes are rumpled and stained with oil, and his hair is disheveled from running his fingers through it repeatedly. This is his usual “mad scientist” look when he doesn’t want to face the world and its horrors. The other man knows this look can’t mean anything good.

“One thing I’ve learned while being friends with you is to not listen to anything you say.”

“Are yo _uhh… huh-ISSH!”_  He brings a hand to his face, “…huh- _ISH! Huh- ** **ISSH!**** ” _The billionaire attempts to ask the question again but is interrupted by a final, unsatisfying sneeze. “Are you fini _hhh… heh- ** **ISSCH!**** ” _He sniffles, pinching his nose between his forefinger and thumb to prevent any further embarrassment from the tickle. Tony clears his throat, “Are you finished insulting me?”

“Bless you, Tony,” Rhodey softens his voice, deciding not to damage the man’s ego any more.

Tony grumbles a response, averting his attention to the table in front of him.

“Can you at least take a nap for a few hours?” he figures that reasoning with his friend is easier than forcing him to do something.

Sleeping would make his mind vulnerable, which would allow the memories to surface. If he wasn’t coming down with a cold he would deny the offer, but the exhaustion is seeping into his bones and commanding his attention. Every moment he’s awake feels like a losing battle. Maybe he won’t have a nightmare for once. At this point, it’s either complying or passing out in the lab. The latter doesn’t sound as appealing.

“Fine,” Tony agrees, stepping away from his workspace.

Rhodey silently thanks whatever possessed Tony to listen to him. It’s a change, for once. He doubts there will be many other situations like this.


	2. Chapter 2

Two

Missions are always difficult. Not only do they waste valuable resources in the span of a few hours but they are also exhausting. Fighting with a team is different in many ways, including the increase in damage to properties and new enemies that refuse to be ignored. Alone, whatever government official that has absolutely no sense of humor can assess the damage and force him to pay said amount; whereas in a team, the damages are forced onto a whole group of people. Thankfully there has been more gratitude for their actions instead of bitter words.

Injuries are common during missions, whether broken and bruised limbs or puncture wounds and scrapes. Every battle against evil is a risk taken to protect the innocent. Returning home with only a few bruises can be a miracle depending on the villain. Although there are many physical injuries, there are also psychological effects. The memories can last for years, causing the individual to relive the traumatic event over and over again.

In the end, everything endured is supposed to be worth the safety of the world. The only downside to the career is being forced to work while coming down with a cold. These days are even more exhausting and unpleasant than the others, and that’s not even touching on how _dangerous_ these missions can be. For missions requiring stealth, one sneeze can be the difference between life and death. In other types there isn’t as much to worry about, but sneezing can interfere with the needed focus for the task at hand.

Tony experienced this unfortunate truth when an ill-timed sneeze pried his attention away from the battle, allowing a powerful blow to the head. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in battle but within the walls of his house.

*

“Rhodey, I’m fine,” he grumbles, resisting the urge to rub his temples. His head is throbbing—an effect from the mild concussion he suffered. “It’s nothing serious.” Even if it were something serious, he wouldn’t admit it.

“Explain to me how having a concussion is being ‘fine’.” Tony opens his mouth to respond, but closes it wisely after a moment. “Exactly. You need to rest, not work.”

“It’s noth _hhh… huh-ISH! …huh- ** **ISSH!**** ” _he groans as the ache in his head intensifies. The brunette pinches his flaring nostrils, silently wishing the tickle would subside. Despite his efforts, the tickle surges and he’s only able to take a gasping breath before flinching to the side. “heh _-ISSCH!”_ Tony winces, “Dammit…” Not only does his head feel heavy as if filled with cement, but the increasing congestion in his sinuses is making it difficult to breathe through his nose.

Rhodey sighs, “Could you stop being stubborn for once?”

“Yeah, like that’s worked out so well for me,” He has reason to think this way. Being vulnerable and unprepared had only hurt him in the past, and he doesn’t want to relive those moments. The only difference now is this is his friend, not Stane or anyone else that was previously a threat. Tony realizes that he can be a stubborn ass at times, but figures Rhodey will be patient with him if the situation calls for it.

“You’re clearly coming down with something,” he pauses, searching for the correct words to finish. “And I can’t help you until you rest.”

What could it hurt? He would miss a few hours of work but feel better overall. Then he could really spend time in the lab uninterrupted. “Fine, I’ll listen to you.”

 “Thank you,"


	3. Chapter 3

Three

The first time it happened, he thought it was a malfunction. He had woken from a particularly terrifying nightmare when his breathing quickened, coming in desperate gasps. His heart pounded in an uneven rhythm, prompting his mind to sort through a list of possible causes for malfunction of the arc reactor. The details of his bedroom became indistinct as his surroundings faded into darkness, frantic thoughts commanding his attention. When he neared unconsciousness, JARVIS was alerted and assured him that he was only experiencing symptoms of a panic attack, not an arc reactor malfunction. Tony wasn’t sure which one was worse.  

The second time wasn’t any easier. He was in public during the occurrence, at an expensive event with Pepper. He had been fine until a young—visibly unnatural blonde—reporter asked him if the Battle of New York changed his design for the Iron Man suit. Immediately the image of the Chitauri portal flashed through his mind, along with the missile sent to destroy the city. The billionaire had to excuse himself from the interview before the panic attack became evident. Pepper accompanied him, murmuring reassuring words that she hoped would calm him enough. Eventually, his breathing returned to normal and he could pull himself together.

The third time definitely _wasn’t_ a charm. Hard liquor and panic attacks don’t mix. At all. The frequent discussion of his past had only made the memories haunt him more. He didn’t have control of the emotions he was experiencing, and that fact scared him more than the pounding heartbeat. Alcohol had always assisted him with the process of forgetting the past, but for some reason it wasn’t working. The flashbacks were too stubborn, and he was helpless against their appearance.

Tony became guarded, snapping at every person who asked if he was all right. He hadn’t meant to, but he couldn’t allow himself to burden another person with the details of his personal life. Besides, he would learn to manage on his own, even if it took months to achieve that goal.

*

Here he is now: sitting in the lab with his eyes shut tightly. His breathing is uneven and forced as he attempts to inhale through the increasing congestion within his sinuses. The cold he managed to contract days earlier isn’t making things easier. He has never experienced a panic attack during a cold, and something tells him this won’t be the last.

Without congestion he can barely inhale a deep breath; with a cold it’s nearly impossible. Every inhale irritates the ache in his throat, provoking a dry and painful coughing fit. He clears his throat after the recent fit, wincing from the immediate sharp pain it brings. There are tears in the corners of his eyes, frustration and irritation combined in one emotion. He is _not_ crying, especially not from something so simple.

Crying simply wasn’t accepted in the Stark household. It suggested weakness, and Howard wanted nothing to do with a weak child. Maria often comforted her son during moments of sorrow, but had to conceal these tender moments from her husband. Both would never hear the end from him if he learned what happened behind closed doors. Tony carried this knowledge into his adulthood, even after his parents had passed. He hasn’t cried in years, something he’s accepted as normal.

“Are you crying?” The brunette’s eyes open quickly, focusing on the man in front of him.

“What? No.” he wipes away the tears that previously threatened to slide down his cheeks.

Rhodey sighs, shaking his head. “Then what _are_ you doing, sleeping sitting up?”

Tony can’t resist rolling his eyes at that comment, “I was thinking, something I occasionally do.”

“You need your eyes closed for that?”

“Why do you want to know?” Tony clears his throat again, feeling the urge to cough increase with every intake of breath.

“It seems… odd, when you’re not working while in here.” Rhodey notices the little signs of the other man not feeling well: wincing every time he swallows, carefully inhaling every breath, and the unmistakable pink tinge to his nostrils. He wisely doesn’t mention anything, figuring his friend will have to explain himself eventually.

Tony gasps abruptly, flinching away from his workspace. “Huh- _ISSH! …heh-ISSHH!_ ” he brings steepled hands to his face, able to cover the rest of the small fit. “ _Huh-ISH!_   _Heh- ** **ISSCH!**** ” _The groan following the final sneeze morphs into a congested cough, as if he needed more embarrassment. “Shit…” he mumbles when the fit ends. He feels exhausted from the energy spent on his traitorous body.

“You don’t feel well, do you?” The evidence beyond what he noticed is enough of an explanation. Tony absolutely despises showing his weaknesses to anyone, sometimes not even Pepper. If he’s openly showing his misery something is wrong. There’s no doubt about it.

His father isn’t there to scold him for being vulnerable. No one is. He’s only hurting himself by forcing a brave face, he realizes belatedly. “No…”

“You should sleep for a while, but before that, drink something warm for your throat.”

“I had some coffee—”

“Not coffee. Tea will be better.”

Tony sighs, “Fine, fine. I’ll drink tea.” He’s too exhausted to argue, anyway. Maybe complying could be a good thing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for such a long wait, but here is the next section.

Four

Days and nights blend together, creating a lengthy, treacherous week of suffering. If it weren’t for his AI, he wouldn’t have a clue of what year it even is. The laboratory, where his AI mainly resides, serves two purposes: something for him to focus his energy on, and an escape from the depression that rages in his mind.

After one full day of him being awake, his mind is sharper than ever. The second day: less sharp but still better than the functions of normal humans. By the third, once intelligent thoughts fade into darkness and new, blurry thoughts surface in his mind. The fourth: a constant state of blurriness. Any further past that and he can’t even explain what minimal function occurs in his brain.

He doesn’t listen to the warnings given by his teammates. They all say the same thing: his body will overwork itself and eventually shut down if he doesn’t rest properly. _That’s a lie_ , he’d decided from the first time he heard the comment. It had been years and that never happened, not even once. Okay, maybe _one_ time. Either way, he doesn’t choose to discuss these matters with anyone other than his own mind.

He doesn’t understand why the others worry about him, especially his closest friends. If his own father didn’t care that much about him, why would anyone else? It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Besides that point, he can only think of two people who would waste their time worrying about his well-being. If anything, he realizes that the time spent worrying about him is just the surface of the _actual_ time spent wanting to murder him. They definitely wouldn’t be the first to have those thoughts, as he learned when a trusted friend turned against him.

Sometimes he believes that everyone he meets will eventually hate him. It dampens his will to make true connections with other people, his age or otherwise. The last test he had was with Steve Rogers and, of course, that went _wonderful._ He can’t think of a time when he annoyed someone more than what he did to Rogers.

These thoughts cloud his mind, and this is why he can’t sleep at night. At least it’s one reason why he can’t sleep. The other portion is due to the nightmares and the crippling anxiety that disrupts his schedule if he doesn’t finish his work, or “tinkering” as Pepper calls it. He doesn’t argue, because that would just be another argument to diffuse hours or days later.

***

“You’re being irresponsible, Tony.”

“Is that still a surprise to you?” he questions with his usual snarky tone. Although this time there’s a hint of congestion in his voice.

“I would be lying if I said ‘yes’.” Rhodey responds. He’s had years to watch Tony’s irresponsible behavior. It’s almost like watching something made of glass fall, but there’s no time to save it from shattering against the hard floor. There are rare occasions when Tony actually listens and doesn’t do something completely different than requested.

On this particular occasion, Tony doesn’t want to admit that he’s coming down with a cold. Pepper was the first to notice the symptoms: congestion, frequent coughing and sneezing, and the not-so-subtle hoarseness to his voice. When she mentioned it he snapped at her and insisted that he doesn’t get sick.

“Oh, that makes me feel _great_.”

“Can you stop being a stubborn ass for one minute?” he asks, resisting the urge to glare at the other man. “Both Pepper and I know that you’re sick. There’s nothing to hide anymore.”

Tony sighs, and there’s nothing dramatic about it. He allows a hast glimpse at how he truly feels. For the first time in the day he seems exhausted, as if the multiple cups of coffee he’s consumed are no longer giving him energy. The circles under his eyes seem darker than before under further inspection. In addition, his eyes are narrowed but it seems to be from a headache rather than annoyance.

Suddenly, he gasps. His eyelids flutter shut as his lips part. He just barely manages to fit the lower half of his face into the crook of his arm. _“_ Huh- _ISSH! …Huh- ** **ISH****!_ ” Tony groans quietly, pinching his nose to keep the tickle at bay. He knows that he’s already lost this battle against the illness. It’s unfortunate but he’s human, right?

He grumbles, “Fine, you win.”

Rhodey will take what he can get when it comes to Tony. Even a reluctant obey is a win.


	5. Chapter 5

Five

It may not seem like it at times, but he’s known for being a genius. Part of that name includes working diligently and outsmarting others with new information on a constant basis. When he’s in a good frame of mind he takes his work seriously. When he’s not, well, it’s the exact opposite. Instead of working, he’ll drink as much alcohol as his body can handle, and then even more. But that’s not as common now as it used to be. Pepper is thankful for that.

Instead of drinking his nights away, he now works in the lab until he’s absolutely exhausted. This is the alternative to actually sleeping and waking from a horrendous nightmare hours later. He figures that working himself to exhaustion will prevent his mind from reliving the past over and over again. His success rate has been skewed, but the results have been mainly positive instead of negative. His team members believe that’s the worst possible thing he could do, but they’re not going to tell him that. It’s a silently known fact that the others would do the same thing (and have in the past) when things get rough, and both Tony and his teammates recognize that.

***

To say that it’s a surprise to find Tony sleeping earlier than six o’clock in the morning is an understatement. What’s even _more_ surprising is that it isn’t even one o’clock. Pepper is astonished when she wakes to find him curled up beside her in bed. This rarely ever happens, unless she forces him to sleep an hour or two after he throws a temper tantrum from being awake for forty-eight to seventy-two hours. Despite the uneasiness that seeps into her stomach after a few minutes of watching, she decides to leave him be and lies back down to sleep once again.

When morning comes and he’s still sound asleep, she observes his peaceful expression for a few moments before reluctantly carrying out her morning routine. Just as she’s about to leave the bedroom, a sudden sound catches her attention. It’s a quiet sound, although it cuts through the morning’s still silence. “ _Issh! …ISH!_ ” Pepper shakes her head slightly. _This is going to be a long day,_ she thinks as she exits the room. She isn’t wrong.

***

“Come on, Tony,” Rhodey pauses, “you need to be reasonable.”

“I don’t need to do anything; especially the things _you_ think will help me.” Tony responds, though his usual snarky tone is unrecognizable and heavy with increasing congestion.

“You’re acting like I’m forcing you to drink poison.”

“You are!” he exclaims, although the noticeable crack of his voice defeats the purpose of seeming angry.

“I’m only trying to have you drink a cup of tea,” Rhodey isn’t attempting to argue with the billionaire anymore.

“For the last time, I’m not sick.” To anyone else, Tony would sound like a spoiled brat that isn’t getting his way, but to those who know him this is just normal behavior.

“Coffee will only dehydrate you and cause you to feel even worse than you do now.”

“I feel _fine_.”

“Pepper told me you were sleeping this morning, and more than an hour. Do _you_ even understand how rare that is?” Rhodey questions the other man.

“For fuck’s sake, I feel f _iiihh… ** **ISSH****! ISH! …_ Huh- _ISSCH!”_  He hastily clamps his hand to his nose, just barely managing to cover the sudden sneezes. Tony inhales a slow, cautious breath, waiting to see if the tickle demands more of his decreasing energy. After a few seconds pass, he thinks he’s fine until the itch strengthens, forcing him into an uncomfortable position. “… _ihh…Huh- ** **ISSCH****! ISSH! ISHH! …heh!” _ He builds up to another sneeze but it leaves him before materializing. Tony sniffles, dragging the back of his wrist underneath irritated nostrils. When he’s certain no other itch will form in his sinuses he exhales heavily. This is exhausting.

“Please, Tony,” Rhodey softens his voice, “let me help you for once.”

“…Okay,” he’s hesitant, but nothing could make him feel worse than he does now.


	6. Chapter 6

\+ One

There are often things said to be the most rewarding when being a superhero: saving innocent lives on a daily basis, the fame that comes with each success story, and putting away the toughest supervillains. But many superheroes would disagree with these statements. Of course these are important (sometimes fame more than others to certain heroes), but these can come and go depending on the day. The one thing that is consistently rewarding is the ability to sleep at the end of a long, stressful day.

To any common civilian, sleep is fairly easy to come by (if there are no disorders like insomnia disrupting a normal schedule, of course). To any superhero, sleep is an uncommon occurrence and _uninterrupted_ sleep is a rare blessing. Nightmares and flashbacks of near death experiences and emotional showdowns with villains are perhaps the most difficult parts of sleeping. Occasionally there are rare nights when dreamless sleep comes easily. Months can pass without dreamless sleep, but when it does it’s worth every night of nightmares.

*

He hasn’t slept in almost four days. Morning and night blend into each other until he can no longer tell what time it is without the presence of JARVIS. Even with periodic updates he barely knows what day it is.

This isn’t the first time he’s ignored sleep in the past few months, and it’s certainly not the last. He has spent years repeating the same sleep schedule, which usually doesn’t involve much sleep. When he does sleep (after days of working non-stop) it’s a miracle, and if it’s through the night that’s _even more_ of a miracle.

But this isn’t like the other cycles. This is an entirely different matter.

By this time he should be exhausted, though he feels more awake than usual. _Odd._

He hasn’t consumed enough caffeine to feel like this. In fact, he has consumed significantly less caffeine than usual. He briefly considers that his body is tricking him into believing that he is more than all right, that he will only crash after a few more hours pass. He dismisses this thought.

He’s fine. It’s simple.

*

“This is ridiculous, Tony,” Rhodey mutters, “You need to sleep.”

“I don’t even see why you’re concerned. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You have a fever that is steadily rising.”

“It’s barely even a fever,” he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“One hundred degrees is a fever,” Rhodey replies, repressing the urge to yell at the other man.

“Barely,” Tony pushes the subject further.

“Why is it impossible for you to accept that something is wrong?”

“It’s not, because nothing’s wrong with me.”

“There’s more than you think,” Rhodey grumbles under his breath.

Tony rolls his eyes again, dismissing his friend’s concern. It’s quite ridiculous, really. Before he can articulate a response, he’s forced to pinch his nose between his forefinger and thumb. He inhales a sharp breath, pitching forward with a set of stifled sneezes. Each one nearly tumbles over the other. He’s slow to remove his hand, wary of any stray sneezes. When there’s no encore, he sniffles and brushes his wrist underneath his nose.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles.

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Rhodey confirms.

“Of course you don’t.” There’s a hint of anger in his voice.

“Tony, you know I only want what’s best for you.”

“I don’t need anyone to watch over me and control what I do and don’t do.”

“I’m not controlling—” Rhodey begins, only to be interrupted.

“Leave me alone.” he nearly hisses.

“Don’t push me away.”

“I’m pretty sure I asked you to leave me alone.”

Rhodey sighs, “Fine, if you want to act like a child then you can.”

He looks at Tony once more before turning to leave. He’ll come around some time. 


End file.
